


Boys, Interrupted

by GythaOgg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Non-Consent, Destiel - Freeform, If this is a trigger for you - don't read this one, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Not really though - it's just role play, Rape Roleplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, nothing actually happens though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 15:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16121405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GythaOgg/pseuds/GythaOgg
Summary: Dean wakes up to an intruder in his house. When he tries to sneak up on him, the burglar overpowers Dean and ties him up. The guy is threatening to do more than just rob him, when suddenly, he’s interrupted.





	Boys, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> If non-con or implied threats of rape are a trigger for you - please do not read this. That said, this is totally consensual (consensual non-con), and there's no actual sex. Blame Claire for that.

 Dean startles awake, momentarily confused that he’s not in his bed. After a moment, he remembers he fell asleep on the couch, and wonders what woke him. Then he hears a muffled “thump” upstairs. “Oh shit!” he whispers to himself. He gets off the couch and tiptoes to the stairs, peering up into the dark, but he can’t see anything. There’s another muffled thump, like a drawer closing. Dean climbs the stairs as quietly as he can, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists, as he goes. At the top of the stairs, he turns right, heading for the half-open door of his bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he carefully pushes the door a bit wider, slipping inside.

                Before Dean’s completely through the door, he feels an arm wrap around his throat, and he’s jerked off balance, falling to the floor. He struggles, but his attacker is strong, and just as big as he is, so he can’t overpower him. Dean finds himself pinned face-down on the floor before he knows it, his arms twisted behind his back. As he tries to catch his breath and think of what to do next, he feels something silky wrap around his wrists, binding them tight. He thrashes, trying to throw the guy off his back, but the stranger doesn’t budge.

                “Get the fuck off me, asshole!” Dean roars. His attacker leans forward, chuckling in a low, menacing voice. “Ya know, I was just going to rob this place and be on my way, but then your pretty ass had to go and fuck things up. Maybe I should fuck something up too.” As he speaks, he runs his hands over Dean’s ass, tugging at his sweatpants. Dean freezes, eyes bulging in shock. “Go to hell,” he hisses, through gritted teeth.

                At that, the burglar barks a laugh, and climbs off Dean. For a split second, Dean tenses, readying himself to get to his feet and make a run for it. He’s no coward, but the stakes have suddenly gotten much higher than a simple robbery. Before he can get his feet under him, however, the stranger grabs Dean by the shoulders, yanking him up to his knees. He leans in again, fingers tight around Dean’s biceps, and breath hot against his ear. “I have a knife, and I’d rather not have to use it, so don’t do anything stupid. You behave yourself, and we’ll all go on about our evening, safe and sound. You hear me?” Dean’s nostrils flare indignantly, and he clenches his teeth, but he nods, once.

                The burglar strokes his hand through Dean’s hair, like he’s petting a cat. “Good boy,” he croons, mockingly. Dean hates to admit it to himself, but the praise and the manhandling are having an effect on his body. Fortunately, the burglar is still behind him, unable to see that effect.

                Then, as if his attacker has somehow read Dean’s mind, he feels his sweatpants yanked down to his knees. Dean gasps, both out of surprise and frustration . . . he is now, effectively, hobbled by his own clothes. Even if this guy stepped away, Dean wouldn’t be able to get to his feet quickly from this position; not with his hands bound behind his back and his pants around his knees.

                Dean hears his attacker chuckle again, and feels his hands smooth over Dean’s naked hips, squeezing his ass. “Commando, huh? Lucky me,” he breathes against Dean’s shoulder. Dean turns his head and glares, trying to get a good look at the guy, and snarls, “Well, I wasn’t expecting company, asshole.” Despite his attitude, Dean’s body continues to betray him. He can feel his now-exposed cock thickening, as the burglar leans in again, pressing his own hard length against Dean’s hip. He hears the unmistakable sound of a zipper, and then the soft scrape of skin against skin, as the guy begins stroking his cock with one hand, holding Dean’s bound wrists with the other.

                Suddenly, there’s the chirp of a cell phone, and the burglar freezes. Dean hears the rustle of fabric, and the guy shifts, sighing. “You don’t fucking move, you hear me?” he growls, squeezing Dean’s wrists, hard. Without waiting for a response, the burglar answers his phone.

“Claire, are you OK?”

_“Hi Dad. Yeah, I’m fine, just having a little car trouble. I tried calling Pop, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Is he with you?”_

“Yeah, honey, he’s right here. Hang on . . . “

                Dean tilts his head towards the phone, as it’s pressed to his ear. “Hey kiddo, what’s wrong?” he says, anxiously. He listens for a minute, then shakes his head a bit, saying, “That’s not gonna be a quick fix. Can you leave the car there for the night, and we’ll go back and take care of it tomorrow, when it’s light out? . . . . . Yeah, we’ll come get you. Be there in half an hour. Love you, honey.”

                The phone is removed from Dean’s ear, accompanied by a rather whiney groan from Cas. “Dammit, this was just getting to the fun part!” Dean shakes his head again and huffs a laugh at his husband, “Yeah, you’re tellin’ me! Just our luck, right? Come on, untie me. I told Claire we’d be there to pick her up in half an hour.”

                Cas is already unwrapping the silk tie from Dean’s wrists, and slides his sweatpants back up, over his rapidly softening cock. He presses a soft kiss to Dean’s neck, then helps him to his feet. Turning in his arms to finally face his husband, Dean smiles, and kisses the pout off Cas’s face. “Next time, baby.”

               


End file.
